Light Boats Sail Swift, Though

I Had Rather Be A Kitten, And Cry Mew, Than One Of These Same Meeter Ballad-mongers: I Had Rather Heare A Brazen Candlestick Turn'd, Or A Dry Wheele Grate On The Axle-tree, And That Would Set My Teeth Nothing An Edge, Nothing So Much, As Mincing Poetrie.

Could Beauty, My Lord, Have Better Commerce Than With Honesty?

Go Wisely And Slowly. Those Who Rush Stumble And Fall.

Is Not The Truth The Truth?

What A Pretty Thing Man Is When He Goes In His Doublet And Hose And Leaves Off His Wit!